Why Am I Here?
by Hawki
Summary: Oneshot: No, I'm not asking why WE'RE here. I'm asking why I'M here. Why am I, Private Dexter Grif, still in this damn Army?


**Why Am I Here?**

Why am I here?

No, I'm not asking why _we're _here, why Simmons, myself and the Blues are listening to Sarge yak on. Simmons is as good as listening as he is talking (correction, bragging) and I couldn't care less about tweedle dumb and tweedle dumber. I'm asking why _I'm _here as Sarge infringes on my territory in solving life's great mystery.

"You always act like you want to quit," the NCO says. "But hell, you could have left whenever you wanted. No-one would have stopped ya. So why are you here?"

_What the...has he forgotten all the years of asserting his delusions of authority? _I wonder, realizing that maybe the reason our leader and the kissass get on so well is that they both wield imaginary power. _Didn't he stop me at every turn?_

Then again, that was the past. And now that Sarge has realized that we're not real soldiers, this is my chance to escape. Well, it will be a chance until his morale kicks in and a red flag turns up from the ether, but hey, maybe I finally _can _leave. And considering that Sarge is now kissing Simmons's ass for a change, maybe now's the perfect time to do so.

_This is it, _I think. _I can leave..._

"You know it, and I know it," Sarge declares. But you're **still here.**"

I blink-I know Sarge has finished boosting maroon boy's fragile ego, but it still feels like he's talking to me. I mean, hell, I _am _still here, aren't I? Sarge's patriotic speech is the perfect time for me to slip away. Especially since he's moved onto tweedle dumb. That should buy me some time as Sarge struggles with the metaphysical ramifications of praising a Blue.

"And you, Tucker. As much as I hate to admit it, you're actually good at being a soldier.

"I am?"

_He is?_

Alright, this is getting ridiculous. Bad enough that Sarge is on a roll, but now he's overcoming his old prejudices too. And since the guy can't go for a day without pointing his shotgun at something (often Blue Base in whatever dirthole we're stationed in), I'll inevitably be his next target of choice. Or rather, his _only _target of choice. Well, that's not going to happen. I'm going to leave. Right here, right now.

_Okay...here we go then._

"So why are you here?" Sarge asks the pimp. Speech number three over. Yet once again, it feels like he's addressing me. And indeed...why _am _I still here? I mean, all I have to do is march out, get in contact with Command, fill out some discharge papers...

"And Caboose," Sarge continues, arriving at tweedle dumber and proving that no-one really saves the best till last. Or at least they don't with actual praise in mind. Not that I'm complaining. It'll give me more time to think and plan my resignation. After all, it'll take Sarge ages to think of something praiseworthy about the moron.

"...it's good to see you."

_What the hell?_

"Thanks. I'm really enjoying the speech so far."

_I bet you are, you...you..._

It's hard to say who I hate more now, the Blue or the Red. I'd say Sarge overall, given that instead of thinking of something nice to say to the dumbass, he went with the "screw it, I'm too lazy to think of something option." _My _option, thank you very much, copyrighted along with Grifball. And yet despite all of this, I'm still here. And I don't know why. And given his theorizing, Sarge doesn't know anyway. However, I can assure him that I don't _want _to be here and will be leaving within seconds.

"For all we know, Tex and Church are dead..."

_Yeah yeah, tell it to someone who's listening._

Problem is, I _am _listening. It's not that I'm _trying _to, it's just that my close proximity has left me without a choice. Again, the question rings in my mind-why am I here? Why aren't I moving my arse a few hundred light years to Earth, waiting in line for a discharge form, filling in the discharge form, catching a flight another few hundred light years to...well, somewhere. I've got a headache coming on, and it's not from Sarge's rambling.

"You do...what you got to do, Private Grif."

"...I'll go get my car keys."

_...wait, what? Did I just say...oh no..._

I'm _**still here**_. Despite everything, I'm still standing here and have just promised to move from here, to there, then to the somewhere where Tex and Church are. Well, I've had enough of directions. There's only one direction I'm going to go in now, and that's to Earth. To get my discharge. To get a new life. To beat the hustle with sweat, blood and...and...

...ah, screw it. That sounds like too much effort.

At least I've finally realized why I'm here.

* * *

_A/N_

_My interest in _Red vs. Blue _has waned a bit over the course of Season 8, but the latest two episodes did a good job of rekindling it. Sarge's speech would be among the reasons for said rejuvination._


End file.
